When I met her, I had no opinion of Eira. She seemed polite, kind, but not the type to stand out in a crowd. She had friends, but not too many. She was in two of my classes, Art II and Sociology. I barely noted her existence until I found her outside of class one day.

I was at the park because I didn't want to be at home. It was a cold December day so I didn't expect anyone else to be there, and was shocked to see Eira sat on a swing. When she saw me in the dark she smiled and invited me to the swing next to her.

Ignoring my hesitance, I cleared snow off the swing and smoothed out my dress and sat next to her. She complimented my dress, saying the way dark blue blended well with the colors of the next. I expressed a similar sediment in the rings she was wearing, the way the silver reflected off the snow made it appear to be glowing.

She smiled and asked what I was doing there. It was the first time she ever said my name, and it was lovely how the vowels in 'Ada' sounded.

I explained my woes of being at home. Although my parents were given a daughter, I was more inclined to the romantic pursuits of a son.

Eira laughed at my phrasing, saying she always found my dramatic nature to be charming. I blamed my flush on the cold. She explained she preferred to be in cold, and how she wasn't fond of the summertime.

We talked about dull things for hours, although being next to her made them seem like the most interesting things in the world. It wasn't too long before the cold got to me and I began to shiver.

She noticed and told me I should head home. It wasn't until then I noticed she had no winter clothes, just a long sweater and leggings. I forced her to take my scarf, fearing her getting frostbite. She said she would only take it if I took her ring.

After I allowed her to slide it onto my finger, she kissed my cheek and told me she would be there the next night too.

Evening after evening, we would meet up. She would be wearing normal clothes besides my scarf I refused to take back, while the only stable thing about my outfit was the silver ring. Eira would observe it on my finger with a look of happiness I rarely saw in her any other time.

It changed on the first day of spring officially, when it was obvious there would be no snow. I went to the muddy park, dressed in a light coat along with the ring, and she was not there. I waited for her, and she did not show.

I went to the park and waited for a week, before something bright red caught my eye in the darkness, right underneath Eira's swing. It was the red scarf I gave her all that time ago.

That was what filled me with dread as I realized I would not see my love again. I slipped the silver ring off of my hand and wrapped the scarf around it, before sticking it back in the mud.

The only thing I can I do is wait for winter.

I really like it because I can actually find pride merch in stores (although I am asexual so I'm slightly less likely to find that stuff over other stuff).

Okay but it's important to celebrate it because it helps us remember history wasn't too kind, like with any event celebrating a type of minority. Makes us feel more accepted, and human.

My life is multicolor.

Every friend around me has chosen a stripe on a rainbow flag to declare their intentions. Each one standing proudly with their self-understanding and their newfound confidence in their own lives. Yet, I remain with no color, a flag gifted to me by a friend that includes black and white and only a triangle of color (search up the pride ally flag) as though my friends know I might never claim a flag that declares me a part of the rainbow.

I love them, though. I love it when my best friend brags to me about his boyfriend. I love it when the junior I adopted tells me about her last ex-girlfriend. I love it even when I can't remember their name because they change it every few weeks tells me in detail about how it feels to be attracted to 'everybody' even if I know they probably exaggerate because just because they're pansexual doesn't mean they don't have standards. I love it when my cuddle buddy tells me to calm down because he's not upset that I messed up his pronouns again - he never reminds me, so he thinks it's okay that I forgot (it really isn't okay to me though). I love it when my friend asks me whether her boyfriend would be mad if she kisses a girl. I love it when my senior explains to me how it's possible to not feel any sexual attraction at all and still be in a romantic relationship. I love it even when I can't keep track of names and pronouns and my entire world is swept up in a technicolor rainbow swirl so dizzying that I start to be surprised that my girl friend is dating a guy.

My life is multicolor. I may be uncertain, I might not know who I am or who I'm into, but my friends are whirlwinds of color that will keep me from ever getting bored. They add the color to my life that I didn't know was missing... because those who seek acceptance - whether from others or themselves - are the most likely to give it to those who need it.

she is pretty, not because of her physical features, and not by the magazine standard, even though she fulfils those too, but because her nose crinkles when she laughs, and she wears down people with her over-enthusiastic questions, and she wears that one shirt over and over and over again and assures me it was washed last week. she's reading narnia again, because it is her second favourite childhood book and it's june, and she is more open-minded than is probably good for her. she stops more for stray cats than stray dogs, and she follows a sign-language learning blog even though she isn't fluent by any definition in her mother tongue. she puts too much salt on her fries and then always gives them to me. and then we both need water. she hates the wind but she loves the rain, and she takes her coffee with one tablespoon of sugar and then a little more.

his name was will

my cover story

the artificial relationship

created to please others

she had many names

she was everywhere

in the soft laugh i hear walking in the hallways

hips touching on the bus

hair running between my fingertips

as I braided her hair

she was the feminine warmth

the kindness

silky gentleness

undeniable strength

Oh, the beauty of bisexuality!

To like both girls and guys

Going about your day

Walking out and about

Admiring the beautiful people that pass you by.